A Different Path to Love
by NatesMama
Summary: Deleted and additional scenes based on events from The Only Thing Different and State of Love and Trust, my collaborative stories with BrainySmrfs.
1. August 7, 2011

Because we skipped so much time in between our two stories, The Only Thing Different and State of Love and Trust, we thought we would give everyone a glimpse into how all the couples involved found their way to happily ever after. Booth and Brennan, Clay and Charlie, Sweets and Penelope, Hodgins and Angela...all of their major and minor life highlights in one place.

Each installment will be titled with the date and year that it occurred. Enjoy and thanks for reading!

~Smurfs and NatesMama

* * *

August 7, 2011

Charlotte rolled over with a groan and glared at her ringing phone. She didn't recognize the incoming number so she answered it with a sigh, "Hello. I hope this is important – I just got to sleep."

"Uh, is this Charlotte Townsend?" A deep male voice asked on the other end.

She rolled over and stared at the ceiling, "Yes, it is. And you are?"

"I…I'm Clayton Woods."

Charlotte sat straight up in bed, "The Speaker of the House?"

With a smile he said, "Yes."

"I am so sorry about how I answered the phone, I just got back from…" She shook her head, obviously this man didn't need to know her personal schedule, "I'm sorry. How can I help you, sir?"

"First of all, you can stop calling me sir." He shifted in his seat, unable to believe that calling a woman made him this anxious at his age, "I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's fine." She ran her hand through her hair, "A normal person would be awake at 3 o'clock in the afternoon but-"

He cut her off, "You're not normal are you?"

She thought she heard the distinct sound of flirting in his voice but she didn't think that was possible, "Well, I certainly don't live a normal life. I just flew in from Iraq last night and I'm a little jet-lagged."

Clay shook his head, "Do you want to call me back at a better time?"

"No, this is fine. How can I help you?" Charlotte looked over at herself in the mirror and rolled her eyes; hair mussed, bags under her eyes. _Nice_, she thought. Clayton Woods was, as far as Charlotte and most straight women were concerned, one of the most handsome men to ever hold public office and a notoriously private bachelor.

He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, "I wanted to know if you would like to have dinner some time?"

"With you?"

"Yes, with me."

She laughed lightly, "I'm sorry but…How do you know me?"

"Uh, I guess you could say I'm a fan?"

Charlotte shook her head and slowly asked, like she didn't believe it, "The Speaker of the House is a fan of mine?"

"Oh yeah." He leaned back in his seat and started to relax, "Your reports from the Green Zone have been fantastic and…well yeah."

Feeling a deep blush creeping across her face, she laid back down, "I'm currently in New York for a few days but I could come to DC this weekend."

"So, you do want to have dinner with me?"

Charlotte smiled, "I really do."


	2. August 13, 2011

August 13, 2011

Booth muted the television when he thought he heard the knocking at Brennan's door. He listened for a moment, and when the knocking continued, he stood and moved to look in the peephole. With a sigh, he opened the door.

"Hey, Max." He gestured behind him. "Bones isn't here; she had to run to the lab for a few hours."

Max nodded, confused. "Alright. But…then what are you doing here?"

With a sigh, Booth opened the door wider and waved Max into the apartment. "Come on in."

Looking around his daughter's apartment for the first time in months, Max noticed some very telling signs. Men's dress shoes next to the door, several sports magazines on the coffee table, two place settings at the table, and a pile of mail on the counter with Booth's name all over it. He turned and raised an eyebrow at Booth, not quite smiling.

"So, how long have you been sleeping with my daughter?"

Booth tried to keep a straight, stoic face but he really hadn't been expecting his girlfriend's father to be so bold…again. "Max…this isn't what you think it is." He pointed to the sofa, where both men sat down.

"This isn't you and Tempe practically living together? Because from where I sit, you're all over this apartment, Booth."

Leaning back into the cushions, Booth considered his options. He could put Max off until Bones got home, letting her take the lead in a conversation she had already stated that she wanted to have with her father. Or…he could just roll with it. And by the look on Max's face, Booth could tell that he was going to have to be the one to explain.

"Max…Bones wanted to talk to you about this, but we've both been pretty busy with work." Yet another thing Max needed to know. Since he and Brennan had become a couple, the FBI had separated them as partners. They had both known it was coming, but the adjustments had been harder than either of them anticipated, and so talking with their families had been the last thing on their minds.

"Yes, I imagine your new job behind a desk keeps you busier than running around with my daughter, catching bad guys." Max did nothing to hide the smile on his face at Booth's shocked stare.

"You knew?"

"I knew you weren't partners anymore, yes. I wasn't sure why, of course…until I walked in here and saw that you've basically peed all over the place." At Booth's glare, he clarified. "Metaphorically, of course. But I think it's a great thing, you two finally together. As a dad, I couldn't wish for a better man for Tempe."

Sighing, Booth crossed one ankle over his leg and stared at the older man. "Max, I have to tell you…I don't need your approval about this, never have. Is it nice to have? Sure, but only for Bones' sake. Me, I've got an entirely different perspective on the matter, and you don't come off very well in it."

Max nodded. "I know that, Booth."

"No, I don't think you actually do. I'm not sure you know about the woman I met seven years ago. She wasn't anything like the warm, giving woman she is now. That woman was always there, but it took a lot of trust-building on my part to even get her to stop glaring at me, forget anything else even remotely as personal as sharing her childhood." Max moved to speak and Booth stopped him with a raised hand. "Let me finish this, because once I'm done we'll never talk about it again. Temperance Brennan is the epitome of a self-made woman. Yes, you gave her the love of science, but the rest? That's all her. Every ounce of strength and honesty and determination…all Bones. You can't even comprehend what your leaving did to her emotionally. But I know, intimately. And Bones might have forgiven you, let you back into her life…hell, I encouraged her to make amends with you. But me? I'm a harder nut to crack. I haven't even decided if I will forgive you for what you did to her." He took in Max's pale face and softened a little. "Your daughter loves you. And I love your daughter. So as far as I'm concerned you're family. But know this…if you ever do anything to ever again cause her an ounce of pain, they will be finding pieces of you up and down the East Coast for the next fifty years. Believe me on that."

Max nodded mutely and stood, alternately impressed and cowed at the same time. "I know all of this, Booth. But you're right…I needed to hear it." He moved to the door, pausing for a moment. "Tell Tempe I'll call her."

Booth clapped Max on the shoulder, conveying everything else he left unsaid in that one gesture. "I'll make sure she knows you stopped by, Max. Have a good one."

Max headed down the hallway towards the elevator. Without turning, he said "Thanks, Booth."

"Always, Max. Always." Booth replied as he closed the door with a click.


	3. July 18, 2013

July 18, 2013

"Booth, she's beautiful."

Booth leaned against the glass separating the nursery from the rest of the room and grinned. "She really is. Thanks, Cam."

"Alexandra Brennan Booth. I like it." Sweets said. "Beautiful and very fitting."

"Fitting?" Booth asked.

"Yes." Sweets smiled, warming to the topic. "Yours and Dr. Brennan's partnership is everything to you both. Your personal partnership is even stronger than the work relationship ever was, and giving your daughter both surnames is simply a logical course of action. She is, quite simply, your greatest achievement as partners."

Booth felt a sudden and troubling urge to cry at the younger man's words. "Yeah." He agreed, gruffly. "Thanks, Sweets."

"But…where is her hair?" Hodgins squinted through the glass, pointing unnecessarily. "I'm not sure I've ever seen a perfectly bald newborn."

"Hey, she'll grow hair! How can she not? Her dad has great hair." Booth glared at Jack, patting his head at the same time.

Turning his attention to the new dad, Hodgins inspected Booth's head closely. "Maybe that's why she is bald…it wouldn't surprise me one bit if this was a really good rug…" He reached to grab a piece of Booth's hair, yelping when Booth smacked him.

"Don't touch the hair, Hodgins."

"Well, I think she looks like Bren. Just gorgeous." Angela was already deeply in love with her goddaughter, mooning over her sleeping visage through the thick protective glass of the nursery.

"Yeah, thank goodness." Cam smirked.

"Hey! Why would looking like me be such a bad thing? I've said it before and I'll say it again…I would make a hot looking woman!" Booth bristled.

Jack cocked an eyebrow at him. "You've said it before? Is this something you've given a lot of thought to, Booth? Something you want to tell us, maybe?"

"Shut up, Hodgins." Moving to deflect, Booth turned to start down the hall. "Who wants to go see Bones? She would probably enjoy the company."

"Nice save, Booth." Angela muttered to Cam under her breath. "That has got to be a good story."

"Yeah, one we'll never hear." Cam agreed.

"Come on, chop, chop!" Booth encouraged. "Bones is waiting!"

B&B

Later that evening, after Booth had left to take a very excited Parker home, Brennan finally had a few minutes alone with her daughter. The baby lay across her lap, wide-open but still unseeing eyes gazing trustingly on the face attached to the voice she had come to know very well over the first nine months of her existence. Brennan gently brushed a finger along the baby's nose, an enigmatic smile crossing her face.

"Hello, Alexandra. I am your mother." She took one small fist in her hand, shaking it slightly. "I know, we have already been introduced, but I must admit I wasn't looking my best at that moment. You surprised us, your father and I, when you decided to make your appearance in the car, so I was understandably distracted with worry for you and your well-being. But I suppose I should have known, because your father was there, that everything was going to be alright."

Brennan turned to take a sip of water, and then continued. "Your father…I should tell you about him. His name is…well, his name is Seeley, but I call him by his surname, Booth. Which is also your surname. And, I suppose legally it is mine as well." She shook her head, laughing a little. "Not that any of this means anything to you at this moment. But what you should know, and what you will undoubtedly learn as you grow, is that you have a wonderful father. Ask your brother, Parker. He can tell you that you are both very lucky children. Booth is caring and loving and so dedicated to your happiness….to the happiness of everyone he loves, really. But his children mean everything to him. I want you to remember that when you argue or when he seems unreasonable, or when he acts as though he thinks you can't care for yourself. Your father has an innate need to care for those around him, even to his own detriment. And when it seems as though he is smothering you, I want you to remember that it is his way of loving you. And you are so, so lucky to have him." Brennan took a breath and continued. "Now, I have never had a child, so I am a little worried about what kind of a mother I am going to be. Booth assures me that I am good with Parker, but as much as I love your brother it is not the same thing. I am responsible for your upbringing from this moment forward, and to be honest it scares me to death. I have wanted you for so, so long…and now that you're here, I am terrified that I am not going to be worthy of you. I can promise you, however, that I will do everything in my power to make sure that you are happy, healthy and loved. And you are so, so loved…never doubt that. And I promise that when I feel unsure or doubt myself, I will seek out advice or support from your father, or your Aunt Angela. I know that I have our family to help me, so I won't be alone." Brennan brushed an errant tear from her cheek and smiled tenderly at her firstborn. "From now on, I will never, ever be alone."

Booth stood just outside Brennan's hospital room door, forehead resting against the frame as he listened to his wife pour her heart out to their daughter. Hearing Temperance Brennan admit a weakness was rare, but he had assured her before Alex's birth that she would be a wonderful mother, and after hearing her whispered confession, he knew he had been right. Wiping his eyes quickly, he picked up the daisies he had set down and turned to enter the room and spend some quality time with his new family.


	4. September 2, 2011

September 2, 2011

With her thumbnail secured between her teeth, Charlotte looked out the window of her former editor and always mentor, Lou's New York apartment. She'd been seeing Clayton for three weeks and things were going well, things were actually almost perfect.

"What's wrong?"

Charlotte looked over at Lou's wife, Dorothy, "Nothing, why?"

"You only bite your nails when something is really bothering you."

Slipping her hands under her thighs to resist temptation, Charlotte sighed, "Nothing is wrong, I'm just…Can I…Never mind. I'm fine."

The older woman sat down at the kitchen table and folded her hands in front of her, "I know I'm not your mother but I like to think that after all these years, Lou and I have become a kind of surrogate family for you."

Charlie reached out and placed her hand on top of the older woman's, "You have. You guys _are_ my family but there are some things that I just can't talk about with you, things that are personal, too personal. Things that I wouldn't have even been able to talk about with my Mom so…"

Dorothy shook her head with a knowing smile, "Do you think that I think you're a virgin?"

Charlotte flinched at the mere mention of her sex life, "No but…I'd like to think you do."

"That's just nonsense." She patted her hand and asked, "Now, what's the problem?"

"Like I said, it's not really a problem. I just…" Charlie twitched her lips back and forth and decided to just let it all out, "Clayton and I have been seeing each other a few weeks and we're at _that_ point, you know?"

Dorothy nodded but remained silent.

"He told me a few days ago that…Clay hasn't been with a woman since his wife died." Charlotte explained quickly on one breath.

"How long has it been?"

"Over eight years." Charlie smiled when she saw the look in Dorothy's eyes, "I know, it's incredibly romantic – when he told me, my entire body turned to jelly. It so adds to the very appealing package that he is and let me tell you, it's a very, very excellent package."

"But?"

Charlie bit her lip and shrugged, "But, it puts a lot of pressure on me, you know?"

"I can see that."

"And I'm supposed to go down there tomorrow and he's making me dinner and it's kind of a foregone conclusion that tomorrow night we'll…you know?"

Dorothy tilted her head, Charlie for all of her faults and idiosyncrasies had never been the fearful type and she thought it was sweet that she was so scared now, "I'm not so old that I don't know what a man making you dinner means."

"I think it's the knowing that it's supposed to happen tomorrow night. Knowing that I'll get on the train and he'll pick me up and then dinner and…" she sighed, "I'm uncomfortable with it almost being like an appointment."

"Trains run from here to there almost every hour on the hour." Dorothy stated, knowing Charlotte and how her mind worked.

"Does that make me look me too eager?"

Dorothy shook her head, "Nah, beside, imagine how eager he must be."

C&C

A little over four hours later Charlotte stood anxiously outside the Clayton's massive brownstone. In the last few weeks she had been there several times and each time she was struck with a feeling of inadequacy. The house was perfect, he was perfect and she was…she didn't know what she was but she knew she was far from his level of perfection. But the fear of not matching up didn't stop her from ringing the doorbell and for that she gave herself an internal fist bump.

When Clay came to the door, he was wearing a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow and grey slacks that still looked like they had just been professionally pressed._ Even at midnight on a Friday the man looks impeccable_, she thought to herself.

"Hey, I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow." He said with a smile that was full of nothing but happiness.

"I know but I was thinking that…" Charlie shifted her weight from one foot to another and then launched herself into his arms, quickly finding her lips with his. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her inside.

When the door clicked closed behind them, Clay pulled away from her and cradled the back of her head with his hand, "I really like the way you think."

He ran his hand down her neck and then slipped her bag off her shoulder letting it fall to the floor with a thud. He pulled her closer to him and looked into her cobalt eyes, blinking several times before whispering, "I haven't been here in a very long time."

Charlotte reached up and ran her fingers down his face with a feather-light touch, "I don't think I've ever been here before."

Hours later, Charlie woke up in Clayton's sumptuous bed to the unfamiliar sound of him snoring. She smirked at the sound, _a crack in the perfection._ She stretched her legs as she turned over in sheets that she was certain cost more than she made in a month and sighed happily to herself.

After making their way to his bedroom, he had laid her down and then delicately and tentatively began the oldest ritual in the world. He took his time, worshipping every inch of her body before she pulled him down to her and coyly whispered, "I won't break, you know."

"I know but," he ran a hand down her bare stomach, stopping to grasp her hip, "you should be treated like you might."

She blinked back a tear and let him make love to her, feeling like she was the most precious thing he had ever touched. What she didn't know was that Clayton felt the exact same way.

The next morning, Clayton stood at the foot of his bed and watched Charlotte sleep as he fastened his watch. The previous night was more than he had previously allowed himself to hope for and he wondered how many other people got this lucky from making an anonymous phone call.

He moved to the side of the bed and carefully sat down on the edge. Hating to wake her up, he whispered her name as he brushed a few loose strands of hair off her face. When that garnered no response, he leaned down closer and kissed her cheek again whispering her name.

The not-quite-familiar sound of his voice and feel of his lips caused Charlie to wake up a touch confused. She opened one, unsure eye and saw Clay smiling down at her, "Hey, I have to go out for a little bit."

Charlotte pulled herself up and wrapped the sheet around her bare torso. She smoothed her hair down and then ran her hands across her face, discreetly checking her eyes for crusties. "But it's Saturday? You have to work today?"

"No, I um…I'm doing a 5k run for Children's National Medical Center. If it were anything else I'd…" He looked at her, sleep tousled and sexy as hell, regretfully.

"It's fine, really."

"I'll be back in a few hours."

She nodded and stifled a yawn, "I'll be here." Then she looked at him shyly, "If that's what you want, I mean. If you rather I-"

He cut her off with a kiss, "I want you here when I get home, ok?"

"Ok." She reached up to kiss him again, cupping both sides of his face with her hands before letting him go. Before he left the room she called out, "Good morning, by the way."

Clay turned and smiled, "I'd say it was better than good." He punctuated his statement with a wink and was gone.


	5. November 27, 2011

**November 27, 2011**

"You do know that marrying is ridiculous, don't you?" Charlotte asked as she entered Clay's living room.

He looked up from the Sunday paper, "And why is that?"

"You're kidding right?" She took a seat next to him on the sofa while he folded the paper and put it on the coffee table he'd been resting his feet on. "The press has already been tearing you a new one for being with me, historically reporters and politicians are a terrible mix and I'm," she looked around his living room with its pristine white carpet and well-stocked and organized bookcases, "a mess compared to you and this place."

Clay smiled, he thought this argument would have come before she said yes and was pleasantly surprised that it took her nearly five hours for her to come to him with it. "Screw the press – what do they know? And we are more than the jobs we do and," he reached over and pulled her onto his lap with a playful groan, "as for you being a mess, I need you to elaborate."

She rested her head on his shoulder and looked down at the ring on her finger, "Take this ring as an example." She held it up to his face, "The woman who should be wearing this ring, she shouldn't be walking around barefoot in torn jeans and a t-shirt from college. She should be wearing some elegant ensemble that I'd never be caught dead in."

Hiding a smirk, Clay asked, "Is that so?"

"Yes! And look at you."

"Me?" He rocked back in mock shock.

"Yes, you." She pushed on his chest with both hands, "In four months, I have never seen you have a bad hair day or lose a button or wake up late and have to scramble to get out the door."

"So? I'm organized." He smoothed her hair down to her back, "I'm 40 and running on the same schedule I've had for almost 10 years."

"But still, we are more different than we are alike and that's can't be good."

Clay chuckled, "How many other people know that you're this neurotic?"

"It's not funny!" She whined as she tried to stand up but he held her in place.

"Hey." He whispered once she stopped struggling in his grip.

"Yes?"

"I love you, I want a life with you and none of that other stuff matters." He massaged her shoulder.

"Maybe not right now but…"

When she started her little debate, Clay found it cute but now it was starting to worry him. He raised his head and looked her in the eye, "Do you not want to marry me?"

Charlie's eyes widened, "Of course I do, why would you say that?"

"You're sitting here, ruining what should be a happy day for both of us, by questioning all these things." He ran a free hand through his hair, "A man's gotta wonder."

Charlie dropped her head, "I'm sorry. I just…honestly, I didn't see it coming so, I'm a little thrown."

"I just thought that we were…You didn't think I would…" He trailed off as he searched her eyes for understanding. He had been certain that this was what they both wanted. He knew that it had only been four months but he had known from the very beginning that they would end up here.

"Eventually yes but not now… You surprised me when I woke up this morning and then I saw the ceiling and the ring and…" She shook her head as a tear ran down her cheek, "I'm sorry. You're right, I'm ruining this amazing moment."

He guided her head down to his shoulder and wrapped both arms around her, "It's ok. I understand, I do."

As he rubbed, soothing circles on her back, Charlotte pulled back from him, "See, I'm a mess."

"And I love you for it. For all that you are and I don't want anything that you're not so," he rested his forehead on hers, "deal with it."

Charlotte relaxed against him, "I do love you."

He closed his eyes, "And you do want to marry me, right?"

"Yes!" She grabbed his cheeks and kissed him, causing him to open his eyes again. "Of course I do. It's just a little unnerving how calm and collected you are."

"I'm not, trust me – it just looks that way." He dropped a kiss near her temple.

"Really?"

Clayton sat up straight, "I have not been calm or collected since the day we set our first date. You," he smiled, "have…I never thought that after all these years that I'd ever meet someone who I could love or share my life with and then you came along and you've changed everything. And no matter how good it is, change is hard for me. I am very stuck in my ways."

"I like your ways, though." She curled toward him and kissed him, "I like them very much."

"Good to know." He cupped her bottom and moved her so that she was straddling his lap. "I worry sometimes that I'm a little boring for you."

"What? How are _you_ boring?"

He brushed her hair off her face and traced a finger down her ear, "I'm not what you're used to, that's all."

"Maybe but, what I'm used to hasn't exactly worked out – has it?" She asked as she pressed herself tighter against him while her nimble fingers began unbuttoning his shirt.

"And this is going to work." He didn't ask, he informed her.

Charlotte bit her lip and nodded as he peeled her t-shirt of her and threw it on the floor. He shifted and laid her down on the couch. She watched as he crawled over and suddenly she was convinced. Before he leaned down to kiss her again, she whispered to him, "This is going to work."


	6. May 20, 2012

**May 20, 2012**

The gathering was small, intimate. The people standing in a semi-circle around the couple shared knowing, happy looks as vows were exchanged, vows that had not only been a long time coming but were destined to mean forever.

Brennan took a breath and smiled up into Booth's eyes, buoyed by the acceptance and love she saw there. "I've always used anthropology as an excuse to push people away. I presented what I thought were salient arguments, proof that love is ephemeral and that while humans are capable love they certainly didn't need it to survive. I used my stubborn belief in my inability to change and evolve to push you away once, and I almost lost you. But you turned out to be even more stubborn that I am, and with unending patience you showed me that I didn't need to change to love you, that I just needed to be me. That all you wanted was what I could give you. Margaret Mead once said that one of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don't come home at night. And it occurred to me that from the moment we became partners, you've always wondered. You've made sure that I was safe, protected, and cared for, no matter what our relationship was defined as at the time. When it began, it might not have been love, but that is what it evolved into, and what it remains to this day. But still and always, it's been a partnership. Through tomorrow, next week, next year…or for 30, 40 or 50 years. That is my solemn promise to you."

Unable to wait, Booth dropped a soft kiss on Brennan's lips, ignoring the snort from the minister behind them. Gripping her hands tightly, Booth began to recite the vows he had written months previous. "Temperance, I love you so much. I-" He shook his head slightly. "That sounds somehow wrong. In fact, everything I had planned to say today just sounds wrong." He took a deep breath and began again, his smile bringing an answering grin to her lips. "Bones, I love you. I know you know that. But I'm not sure if you know just how much I love you…how deep that feeling goes with me. That probably sounds overly romantic and completely irrational and impossible, but its how I feel. I take a breath, I blink my eyes, I walk and run and eat and sleep and I feel that love for you. It's always with me, a tangible, constant reminder. It's the only thing that I am absolutely, completely and totally sure of in this world, that I love you more than my own life. And you need to know that the love I feel for you will never fade, it will always be there, just as I will always be there. That is the one thing in this world that _you_ can be sure of. My devotion. Through tomorrow, next week, next year…or for 30, 40 or 50 years. That is my solemn promise to you."

Booth used his thumb to swipe at the moisture on her face, fighting the tears in his own eyes. They shared a long look before Brennan turned to the minister. With a nod, he held up two silver bands.

"These rings, perfect circles with no beginning and no ending, will be exchanged as a symbol of Temperance and Seeley's vows to each other." He handed the larger ring to Brennan. "Temperance?"

With a shaking hand, Brennan took Booth's ring and held it poised over his hand. "Booth, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love, my faith in our strength together and my covenant to learn and grow with you." She slipped on the ring, and then intertwined her fingers with his.

The minister handed Booth Brennan's ring. He released her right hand and took her left in both of his. He took a deep breath and held her captive with his penetrating stare. "Bones, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love for you. Let it be a reminder that I am always by your side, that I will never willingly leave you and that I will always be a faithful partner to you." He slipped the ring on, leaning down to kiss her knuckles. They shared another long look as the minister closed his book and addressed the couple.

"We close with a final blessing for your marriage, a traditional Irish wedding blessing: Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter to the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other. Now there is no more loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other. Now you are two bodies, but there is only one life before you. Go now to your dwelling place, to enter into the days of your togetherness. And may your days be good and long upon the earth." Booth and Brennan exchanged watery smiles as the minister nodded to Booth. "And now, by the power vested in me by Almighty God and in accordance with the laws of the District of Columbia, I pronounce you husband and wife…partners in life. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. Seeley, you may kiss your bride."

Grinning madly, Booth leaned forward and captured Brennan's lips in a soft, passionate and chaste kiss. Brennan reached around and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him close and deepening the kiss to the hoots and hollers of the assembled family and friends. When they broke the kiss, they grinned happily at each other and allowed the minister to turn them towards the gathered witnesses.

"Ladies and gentleman, it is my sincere and honest privilege to introduce you, for the first time, to Mr. Seeley Booth and Mrs. Temperance Brennan-Booth!"

The crowd surrounding them clapped and cheered as Booth led Brennan down the covered path through the Jeffersonian gardens, stopping to accept kisses and hugs from their family and friends as they made their way to the large tent set up off to the side.

They closed the tent as Booth pulled Brennan into his arms, smiling happily. "Well hello, Mrs. Booth."

Brennan smiled back, surprised at the sudden burn of tears in her eyes at Booth's words. "Hello yourself…Husband."

Booth's breath hitched in his chest at Brennan's words. "Wow…" he breathed. "I had no idea how unbelievably happy hearing you call me 'husband' would make me." He ran a finger down her cheek lovingly. "Hey Bones?"

"Yes, Booth?"

"You are my wife." He whispered in awe. Kissing her softly, he smiled. "How about that?"

"Yes." Brennan swiped at a tear, and then pulled Booth close to whisper in his ear. "How about that?"


	7. September 4, 2016

**September 4, 2016**

"I thought you guys weren't supposed to be working this weekend?" Booth asked as he shuffled into the kitchen of the Woods' vacation home on Martha's Vineyard. Clay and Charlie had invited a small group for the weekend to celebrate Clay's nomination as the Democratic Presidential nominee.

Charlie looked up from her laptop and grimaced at Booth, "The house was finally quiet and I wanted to punch up my speech for the Boston D.A.R. chapter on Tuesday. They're not exactly my crowd, you know?"

Booth smiled and took a seat across from her at the kitchen table, "I can imagine…"

"What are you doing up?"

He yawned, "I don't know. Can't sleep. Restless."

"I know the feeling." She stood and rubbed the crick in her neck that had formed from staring at her laptop, "Do you want tea or something?"

"I'd rather have a beer."

Charlie grinned as she pulled the fridge open, "Me too."

"You know, we've been so busy I haven't had a chance to ask you why you got so involved with the campaign." She handed him a beer and smirked, "Other than the wife insisted, I mean."

Booth popped the top off his beer and took a swig, "In the beginning, I did do it because Bones asked me to. She gave me the whole 'democratic responsibility' speech."

Charlie sat back down across from him, "You can't complain about the system if you don't try and do anything about it?"

He pointed at her with his beer in hand, "That's the one. But she also threw in some stuff about him being a good man and the country needs that right now or something like that." He punctuated his explanation with a smile.

"Smart woman."

"She is a genius." He rolled the bottle back and forth in his hands. "After Bones got involved, we went to a speech Clay gave at the VFW and…He's the real deal, isn't he?"

She raised her brow and nodded.

"I watched him with those old-timers, listening to their war stories, their concerns and I was impressed. He means every word he says or at least it seems like he does."

Charlotte smiled, "He really does."

"And that's why I got involved." He looked down at the table and noticed Charlotte's itinerary for the week, "I don't know how you do this, Charlie."

She shrugged, "It's really not that different than what I used to do. Except now, I'm answering the questions instead of asking them."

"Yeah, but still…" He picked up the schedule and squinted at it, "Lunches, brunches, teas? Really?"

"I do it for Clay." She took a sip of her beer and then leaned forward, "And you'd do it for Bren."

He nodded with a shy smile, "Yeah, I would."

Charlotte tucked her hair behind her ears, "The world needs people like Bren and Clay – they're special. We're not."

"Gee, thanks."

"I mean, in our own right we are. We've both excelled in our careers but how many other cops and journalists are there out there?" Charlie watched as Booth nodded in agreement. "There's plenty of people like us but Clay and Bren are…" she shrugged.

"Special?"

"Yeah, they are. Clay's two months from being president, fingers crossed, and Bren…there is no one in the world who can do what she does as well as she does."

"Where are you going with this?"

"You said that you didn't know how I managed to do all of this and I'm trying to explain to you why I do it."

"I get it – you love him."

"It's more than that, Seel." She looked around the spacious kitchen and then back to the man across from her, "They change history, they make history, they'll be a part of history." She took a sip of her beer, "They're the flowers, we're the gardeners

Booth scoffed, "That's cheesy as hell and you know it."

"Maybe it is but it's also very true. We keep them grounded, we make sure they take care of themselves, they lean on us when the pressures too much. The world needs them but they need us."

He considered her words and then admitted, "I never really thought about it that way."

" It's the hardest job I've ever done but I love it."

He grinned as he took a drink of his beer, "I love my job, too."


	8. October 4, 2011

October 4, 2011

Hustling from the Hoover to the diner to meet Brennan for lunch, Booth paused for traffic and his eyes found themselves fixed on the cover of a magazine at the corner newsstand. It was a picture of Charlotte in a barely-there bikini frolicking on some, far away tropical island with a bare-chested Clayton Woods. He stepped closer to get a better look at the picture – it was obviously taken from quite a ways away and the couple wasn't aware that they were being photographed.

Charlotte and Clayton had been the most talked about pairing in DC for well over a month so he wasn't surprised to see the photo but it was a little jarring for him. A part of him, the biggest part, was pleased that she found someone who made her happy. He had never held any ill will toward Charlie and he only wanted the best for her but a smaller part, the one he tried to keep under wraps, was less-than thrilled that he found himself bombarded by pictures of his one-time girlfriend on a regular basis. He wasn't jealous and he wasn't angry about it, it was a feeling he didn't know what to call but he did know it made him cranky. To make matters worse, the team had figured out what triggered his crankiness as well and they used it to torment him as often as they could.

Cam would slip the random article about Clay and Charlie into pathology reports that he requested and Sweets and Hodgins would often change the subject of a conversation at the bar to mid-term elections and the Speaker of the House. But the worst one of them all, to his complete surprise, was Brennan. On more than one occasion she cranked up the volume of the nightly news when the couple was mentioned, but when Booth questioned her she denied it.

Booth took one last look at the magazine and shook his head before continuing on his way to the diner. He saw Brennan through the window, and when she waved shyly, all thoughts of Charlotte Townsend and the Congressman flew out of his mind.

"Hey you." Brennan smiled as he approached the table.

He bent down and kissed her quickly, "Hey there, yourself. Sorry I'm late."

She shrugged, "It's ok."

Booth took his seat and picked up the menu. As his eyes were perusing the lunch specials, Brennan pulled down his menu with one finger, "Yes, Bones?"

"Did you walk?"

He nodded, "Yeah, why?"

Hiding a smirk, she asked, "So, you went past the newsstand?"

"Yup."

"Did you see the photo of Charlotte and Speaker Woods?" She was now unable to hide her wicked grin.

Booth dropped the menu and crossed his arms in front of him, "I did. Why do you ask?"

"Because I know how much you hate seeing those things and that amuses me."

He sighed, "It's not that I hate it. Actually, I'm very happy for Charlie – really, I am. It's just…" He sighed again as he reached for her hands, "It's just that I don't like seeing constant reminders of that part of my life. That's history, that's gone with the wind as far as I'm concerned. I'm only focused on the present and our future."

Brennan linked her fingers with his and smiled, "I know. But you have to admit that it's quite humorous that there's a very good chance that someday in the future you'll be able to say that you know what the First Lady looks like naked."

"Bones!" He jumped back in his seat, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She leaned forward, her hand hovering by his temple, "I really like it when this," she grazed his forehead with two gentle fingers, "vein starts jumping. It amuses me."

"It amuses you, huh?" He relaxed and offered her a lop-sided smile.

She moved her hand down to cup his chin, "Very much so."

He glanced down at his watch and then back up to the woman he loved, the one he still couldn't believe loved him back and then inched closer to her, "What do you say we skip lunch and go home where I can amuse the hell out of you in private?"

"I'd say…" She reached for her jacket and slowly stood, "I'd say that I'll race you there."

Booth laughed as Brennan quickly exited the diner. He decided to give her a head start, since he knew that they'd both finish together.


	9. April 22, 2011

**April 22, 2011**

A few weeks after her break-up with Booth, Charlotte found herself on her oldest (and only, really) friend's couch while in between assignments in Chicago.

"So, what happened with soldier boy?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes and sunk deeper into the couch, "We're done."

Chloe sat down next to her, "I know that much but what exactly happened?"

"After I told him that I was considering taking the job in DC-"

"A job that _he_ asked you to consider, correct?" Chloe asked, cutting her off.

"Yes, he asked me to but…I don't think he meant to, he just…I don't know but after I did start to consider it, he told me that he didn't want me to change who I was for him, that I would resent him if I did."

Chloe handed Charlie a glass of wine, "You know Cherry, he's probably not wrong about that."

"I know." She took a sip and then sighed, "The thing that bugs me the most isn't that he ended things it's that we both agreed that while things with us were good, we both wanted something better than good. What kind of person thinks that way?"

"Gamblers, people with impulse control disorders and people who've never really been in love before."

Ignoring her friend's comment, Charlie asked, "Why do we think we deserve more? Good is good, right?"

"It is but something that's truly great is better and what if _the_ great guy for you is still out there? Do you want to waste your time with someone who's just good for you? Someone you don't love and who doesn't love you?"

Charlie shrugged, "I don't know…I do know that I didn't love Seeley and that I always knew there was an expiration date out there for us but," she set her glass down on the table at her side and leaned her head back, "I also know that I liked him more than anyone I've met in a very long time."

Chloe nudged Charlotte's legs, "That's a good thing. You've spent all of your 30's ignoring men's advances and burying yourself in work. At least now you know that someone out there might be worth it."

Charlie nodded and picked up her drink again, before taking a drink, she picked up a picture from the coffee table of Chloe and her girlfriend Paige, "I don't think I'll ever have what you two do. I'm just not that kind of person."

"You'll become that 'kind of person' when you meet the right guy. The one that you're not afraid to be yourself around, the one who finds your flaws beautiful and loves you all the more for them. Although," Chloe smirked, "that would take one hell of a guy because you're-"

Charlie cut her off and mumbled under her breath, "A friggin' mess."

Chloe leaned her head on Charlotte's shoulder and sighed, "Aw Cherry, you're not a mess. You're just _interesting_ – all those little quirks; the claustrophobia, the fear of cats, that annoying humming thing you do when you're typing are weird but... endearing."

"Uh, huh…" Charlotte took a loud, slurping sip of her wine.

"So now, we just need to find you a man who doesn't mind that you love your work, likes that fact that you're neurotic as hell and-"

"Worships me and the ground I walk on."

Chloe raised her hand, "And rich."

"And handsome. Like, devastatingly handsome." Charlie added, clinking her wine glass against the other woman's.

"Exactly." Chloe took a sip of her wine, "That shouldn't be too hard."

Charlie gulped down the rest of her wine and set the glass on the table, "Oh yeah, not hard at all…"

"I get the funny feeling that he's out there, waiting for you." Chloe watched as hope ghosted Charlie's face before being taken over by her normal skeptical expression as she stood and went to the kitchen for another bottle of burgundy.

When she returned, she flopped back onto the couch, "How can he be waiting for me if he's never even met me?"

Chloe smiled, "You ask too many questions. Just take comfort in knowing that he'll find you…he'll find _you_."


	10. March 12, 2013

**March 12, 2013**

Angela Montenegro-Hodgins curled up on her sofa, one eye on the paperwork in front of her, and one on the television that was blaring the local news. She was halfway through her reading when a story on the report caught her attention.

_Late last night, a local minister discovered a surprise on the back steps of his parish. Reverend Nate Jordan was doing his nightly check of the First Lutheran Church of DC when he found a child carrier sitting on the porch out back. Inside, an approximately six month-old baby girl was wrapped up, unharmed and appearing to be in good health. Reverend Jordan called authorities and the child was rushed to Georgetown Medical Center, where she was evaluated and found to be well-taken care of and healthy. After interviewing several parishioners, the parents were found and subsequently arrested for felony child abuse and abandonment. The baby is now in the care of child services, awaiting placement. _

The rest of the story went ignored as Angela stared at the picture of the child on her television set. There was something about those wide, bright blue eyes that instantly connected with the artist, and without another thought she jumped up and ran through the house, yelling for her husband.

"Jack! Jack, come quick!" She skidded around the corner of the hallway, almost running head-on into Hodgins, who had popped out of his office with a worried expression.

"Angie!" He grabbed her upper arms to hold her still, inspecting her up and down for whatever injury surely caused her sudden outburst. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Shaking her head, Angela tried to catch her breath. "Baby…on TV! Wait…" She breathed deeply, eyes closed, centering herself. "Okay. I'm okay."

Hodgins tilted his head slightly, regarding her with amusement now that he knew she was unhurt. "Are you sure?"

Nodding, Angela explained. "There was an abandoned baby on the news just now. They showed her picture and…Jack, I think she's the one."

He sighed and pulled her into his office, depositing her on the small sofa he kept there for her to sit and keep him company while he worked. He stood in front of her, arms crossed. "What makes you think this is our baby? That this one is going to turn out any different than the others?"

A tear escaped her eye at the memory of the three other babies they had attempted to adopt. For three different reasons, none of those scenarios had worked out, so Angela understood Jack's reticence. "I…I can't explain. It's just, they showed her picture, and her eyes…they reminded me so much of Bren's. And you know, we talked about how we wanted to adopt children first, children who were unwanted or abandoned like Brennan was…and this baby just called out to me. I don't know why, I really don't."

Knowing the battle was lost but wanting to be sure, Jack sighed heavily. "Where is she?"

"They said on the news that she was with child protective services. Can Julie find out? Can you call her?"

Hodgins nodded and crossed to his desk, flipping open his address book to find the number of their adoption lawyer. He placed the call, and then convinced his wife to join him for dinner at their favorite sushi place while they waited for Julie's call.

The meal was wonderful, but there was a definite tension in the air, a tension Hodgins could practically see coming off his wife in waves. "Angie, relax. Julie will find out what's what and she'll call me on my-" His cell phone rang, interrupting his thought. "See? There she is now."

He answered his phone, speaking low with the lawyer, nodding absently and studiously avoiding Angela's intense stare. "What do we know about the baby? She's healthy? Yeah? That's good. And what is her name?"

Angela watched, transfixed, as a blush spread across her husband's face. His eyes widened, and he reached over and gripped her hand tightly. "Julie, we would love to take this baby in. Can you take our paperwork over, or should we do it ourselves?" He nodded at something Julie said, thanked her, and then hung up. He regarded his wife across the table quietly for a moment, long enough to make her nervous.

"Well? What did she say? What freaked you out? Do we get to go get her tonight?" Angela was nearly vibrating with excitement tinged with fear. "Tell me!"

Hodgins nodded. "Well, she is still with CPS. They have been trying to find her placement for the last 24 hours, and Julie seems to think we could take her in as foster parents as soon as tomorrow morning. They have our information on file, so it would just be a matter of letting them know we were interested."

"That's…that's good, right? So what were you freaked about?"

Jack shook his head in amazement. "You were right about this baby girl being the one. If I wasn't convinced by you alone, when Julie told me the baby's name, I knew it was meant to be."

To her credit, Angela managed to wait a beat before asking. "Well? What is our baby's name?"

Hodgins smiled. "Her name is Joy. Clementine Joy."


	11. October 13, 2012

**October 13, 2012**

Mary Catherine Woods Veit rushed down the back hallway of the Cathedral Basilica of Saint Peter and Paul in search of her big brother. The door was ajar when she arrived at the groom's dressing area.

"Clayton!" She hissed though the crack in the door. When he didn't hear her, she opened the door all the way and called his name out again.

The minute he saw the panic in her eyes, Clay's stomach dropped. _This is it_, he thought, _she changed her mind. _Trying to not let his internal fears show, he stepped out into the hallway with Cat, "What's wrong?"

"Well, according to Charlotte, she has hives and can't get married today but I'm betting that she's just scared. You need to go talk to her." Cat explained as she smooth her hands down her satin gown.

"Me? Isn't it bad luck to see her?"

"You won't see her, trust me." She linked her arm with her brother's and started to guide him toward his nervous bride. "None of us have seen her in over an hour. She's locked herself in the bathroom in nothing but a strapless bra and slip."

Clay couldn't help but laugh, "Well, today couldn't be boring, could it?"

"All I know is that in about 20 minutes, this place is going to be flooded with 350 of your closest family, friends and enemies so we need to get her out of there."

"She was fine when we talked earlier – what happened? What set her off?"

Cat shrugged, "Not sure really." They paused outside the bridal dressing area, "She was in a good mood, laughing and joking with all of us and then she went into the bathroom and…now here we are."

Clayton inhaled deeply as he opened the door. He raised his hand as a quick 'hello' to all the women in the room and made his way to the back of the room. He entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him, the last thing he needed was his mother or sister coming in behind him trying to help.

"Charlie?" He called out looking for feet under the stalls.

Recognizing his voice, Charlotte stood up straight like a child who just broke mommy's favorite vase, "Did Cat tell you, we need to do this another day. Does tomorrow work for you?"

"Tomorrow? Yeah, that works for me but I can't speak for the guests or the priest or the photographer or the caterers or the-"

"I get it, ok?" Charlie leaned her back against the stall door and stared at the acrylic nails that had been applied over top her natural nails that the stress of planning a wedding had destroyed. "This is 'event' is bigger than us now."

"But it is _about_ us, Charlotte." Clay rested his palm on the door, "And you like us, right?"

Charlotte turned in the tiny stall and unknowingly rested her forehead in the same spot that Clay's hand was braced on the other side of the door, "I _love_ us. You know that."

"Then why are you hiding in there?"

"I-I don't know."

Clay chuckled, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

She swung the door open, "It's not funny! Why do you always think that me being scared of something is funny?"

"We're not supposed to see each other!" He tried to push her back into the stall but she protested.

"Give me a break. I'm 37 years old – I've kinda gotten over stupid superstitions."

He looked her up and down, "Well, at least you're not in your dress."

She looked down and wrapped her arms around her bare torso, "I forgot I wasn't dressed." Sizing him up, she grinned, "You look amazing, by the way."

Clay tugged at his lapels of his tuxedo, "This old thing?"

She smiled and closed her eyes, "I think I'm ok, now."

"Really?"

Charlie nodded and inhaled sharply, "Yeah, maybe I just needed to see you. To be reminded of why I was doing this in the first place."

"So, what you're saying is that I'm enough incentive?" He asked as he placed his hands on her hips and tugged her toward him.

"Indeed you are." She said as tilted her head back and licked her lower lip.

He kissed her once, then twice and then pulled back, "We've got somewhere to be, you know?"

"I know."

"I'm gonna go." He kissed her briefly, "And you're going to get dressed." Another kiss was exchanged, "And then I'll meet you at the altar, k?"

She nodded against his lips, "K."

Reluctantly he pulled away from her and walked backwards toward the door, "See you soon."

Charlie grinned as he closed the door behind him. She waited a few minutes before going back into the dressing area. Then she excitedly entered the room and announced, "Ok, let's get this show on the road!"

BbB

After reciting the traditional wedding vows they had agreed on, Charlotte found herself needing to say one more thing. "I've waited my whole life for you…" She blurted out while wiping a tear away and smiling at Clayton, "I didn't think I'd ever find you." She reached out and nudged him on the shoulder, "What took you so long?"

Clay laughed and grabbed her hand, "I was really, really busy. I am _so_ sorry." He kissed her hand before releasing it.

The congregation erupted into laughter. An embarrassed Clay and Charlie looked out at them and then back to each other.

Father Francis cleared his throat and the couple turned to focus on him. He smiled and addressed the wedding guests, "Well, I think we can all agree that the important thing is that you two have found each other now."

The bride and groom nodded and rejoined hands. The rest of the ceremony was a blur for Charlotte but one part was clear as a bell and she knew she'd remember for the rest of her life.

It was when the priest announced, "It is my great honor and pleasure to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Clayton Samuel Woods!"


	12. September 19, 2014

**September 19, 2014**

Charlotte poked her head in the sunroom and found Clayton reclining on the chaise lounge, with his eyes closed, enjoying one of the last days of summer sun. He looked so peaceful, his legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded above his head, that she just stood and watched him for several long minutes. She'd found herself doing that a lot in the three days since he'd come home, just watching him, appreciating him.

Clayton felt her presence and cocked one eye open and smiled, "How's my girl?"

She returned his smile and made her way over to him, "I'm good." She sat down next to him and he pulled her across his chest so that her head rested near his heart. Looking up at him, she touched the dimple in his chin, "It's so weird to have you here in the middle of the day."

"Ah, don't worry, I'll be out of your hair sometime next week."

"But I _like_ you in my hair though and I don't want you going back to work too soon. You need your rest."

He wrapped his hand around her finger that rested on his face, "I won't go back before the doctors clear me," he caught her eye and tilted his head down to her, "I promise."

Satisfied with his promise, she dropped her hand and rested her head against his chest again.

"We should talk about it. It's only going to get harder the longer we wait." Clay ran his hand through her thick red hair and waited for her to respond.

"I know I just…" Charlotte pushed up to a sitting position and glanced at him.

"I guarantee you that what you've conjured up in your mind is worse than the reality, Charlotte."

She shook her head back and forth and quickly headed into the house. Clayton slowly got to his feet and hobbled into the kitchen with help from a cane. "Charlie, where'd you go?"

"I'm in here." She called from the living room.

He paused in the doorway when he found her curled up in a ball on the sofa and laughed under his breath, "It's really not fair for you to be running away from me right now."

She looked up at him, "I wasn't running away."

"Sure you weren't." He winced as he sat down next to her. Without waiting for her to speak, without waiting for the go-ahead from her, Clay began speaking, "I was held for 9 days. For 23 and a half hours a day I was tied to a chair."

Charlie looked over at him, "Clay, please…"

"No, we're gonna get this out now before it taints everything." He relaxed his back in the corner of the couch and faced her, "Ask me something."

She twisted her rings back and forth, there was one question and only one question she really needed to ask him and she hated herself for having that need. She inhaled sharply and then asked in a nearly manic tone, "Was there ever a point that you regretted ever laying eyes on me? Even if it was just a split second, a fleeting thought?"

Clayton closed his eyes and nodded, "I had a lot of time to myself. Of course, I ran the scenarios in my mind. How could this have been prevented, what could I have done to change this outcome?"

"I did the same thing." Charlotte confessed on a light breath.

"But there was no scenario that made me feel better." He leaned toward her and grabbed her hands, "Never meeting you, denying that pull I felt the first time I ever saw you was unacceptable to me."

A tear fell from her eye and landed on his hand before she looked up at him, "Even while T-Tucker was reading to you?"

"Especially then." He wiped her cheeks free of tears and sighed, "I will not lie to you – the things I heard made my skin crawl but that would be true for anyone."

"I am so sorry, Clayton." Charlie couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"For what? For having a relationship with someone else before you ever met me?"

She shrugged, "For all of this. For you having to…"

"Look, did I want to hear those things? Hell no but…" He shifted toward her, "There were four journals that he read from."

She nodded, "One for each year that he's been following me."

"Right, and Booth was part of ¾ of the first one – that's it. He may have written a few paragraphs about the things you did with him but he wrote entire pages about how you looked at me."

"Because I love you." She sniffled while running a hand through her hair.

"Yes, you do." He kissed her on the tip of her nose. "That's one of the things Tucker overlooked, he thought reading those things to me would upset me and some of them did but overall, they just gave me the strength to get through."


	13. October 18, 2016

**October 18, 2016**

"So, are they playing tag or touch?" Clay asked Brennan as he joined her on the back patio of Angela and Hodgins' home.

Brennan smirked, "It seems to depend on who has the ball."

The Hodgins had invited friends and family over to celebrate Jack's birthday and after eating and toasts, most of the guests took to the backyard for a game of football.

"I really enjoyed talking with your sister last week."

"Yeah, Cat's a trip."

"Very different from you or so it seems."

Clayton smiled and nodded, "Cat did the traditional thing that I tried but didn't work out for me."

Brennan felt a twinge of sadness in his voice, "What do you mean?"

"Cat got married a month after she graduated from Sacred Heart, had her first baby nine months later almost to the day, stayed in Philly, did the charity thing, kept having more kids…" He trailed off.

"And that's the life that you wanted?"

"At one time, yes." He took a sip of iced tea and sighed, "I met Michelle, my first wife, while I was at West Point and we got married after graduation and we wanted a family but…I had to give my years to the army and I could never see having children while I was away and I thought there'd always be time."

Brennan frowned, "Life rarely works out the way we anticipate." Clay nodded in agreement and then smiled causing her to ask, "What?"

"You are not the woman the world thinks you are. That's all."

She smiled, "Well, I could definitely say you're not the man the world thinks you are."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Is it a good thing for me?"

"Absolutely." He grinned and tapped his glass against hers.

"The same goes for you." After pausing to watch the game for a few minutes, it crossed Brennan's mind that it was less than a month before the election. She asked, "Did you always plan to go into politics?"

"Eventually, yeah. I never intended to start as soon as I did. I had just finished law school and was trying to decide if I wanted to practice or teach and Dad died suddenly. And then everyone was looking at me to pick up his reigns and I couldn't say no." He crossed a leg over the other and rested his hands behind his head, "Shell hated it. We always knew that someday it would be a part of our lives and she was ok with that but _this_ life, the traveling and public appearances wasn't really for her. She was elementary school teacher, she wanted a low-key life."

"But she went along with it for you, right?"

He smiled, "Yes, she did. I'd been in office less than a year when she died." He ran his finger around the rim of his glass, thinking back to that part of his life, "I was in DC when the accident happened, she was in Philly – I didn't even make it home in time to say good-bye to her."

Brennan shuddered faintly, "I couldn't even imagine what that must have been like." She laid a hand on his, "I'm very sorry that you had to endure that."

"Thank you, Temperance." He paused and watched as Parker launched the ball to Charlotte only to have Sweets take her down before she could catch it. He laughed as Sweets apologized profusely to his wife as he tried to help her up. Charlie socked him as hard as she could on the shoulder, eliciting an enthusiastic high five from Booth.

Clay looked over at Brennan, "It all worked out though, I mean…you know."

"Yes, I do." Brennan watched as Booth, Penelope, Parker and Charlotte huddled in the corner of the yard. She glanced over at Clayton, studying his square jaw and handsome features and then asked, "Did you date much before you met Charlotte?"

He looked over at her with amusement, "Uh, no not really. Why do you ask?"

"You're a handsome, wealthy man in the public eye, it would be abnormal if you didn't. That's all." She shrugged and turned her attention back to the game.

"Then I'm abnormal, I guess."

Brennan couldn't contain her interest when she turned to him and asked, "You didn't date at all?"

He shrugged "After a couple of years, I went on a few dates but it just…it never seemed right. And after a few tries, I gave up. I still felt married."

"Until you met Charlotte?"

"Until I met Charlotte." He confirmed in a low voice. He looked up and watched as Charlotte struggled to bring down Hodgins before he reached the goal line. He dragged her with him and spiked the ball before she even had a chance to let go of his waist. Penelope ran over and helped her up while she said something inaudible but definitely snippy to Jack causing Charlie to bump bellies with her in agreement.

A newly pregnant Angela stood up on the sidelines and cheered for her husband while Gus ran up behind him and hoisted him in the air.

Booth looked over to the patio and arched a brow in Brennan's direction before tossing her a grin and running back to the huddle. She glanced over at Charlotte, the other woman was muddy, breathing heavily and her hair had come loose from its formerly neat ponytail and yet she still looked beautiful.

Brennan turned her attention back to Clayton and saw a look of sheer amusement on his face as he watched his wife and her husband argue about the next play. Charlie leaned in and poked Booth in the chest and then he threw his hands up in defiant defeat. Brennan cleared her throat and asked a question she had wanted to ask another man years before but never got up the nerve to, "Why Charlotte?"

Without hesitation or giving it a single thought he said, "She was what was missing."

"In your life, you mean?"

"In my life, my home, in me…" He shrugged and smiled, "I can't describe it better than that. Initially, I called her because between watching her on TV and reading her articles, I found her to be this beautiful, intelligent, self-deprecating walking contradiction and I had to meet her. But after I met her I couldn't believe that I had been walking around barely alive for eight long years. Charlotte wasn't like the Main Line girls that I had been fixed up with over the years. She wasn't…trying to fit into any certain role and she wasn't one of those annoying free-spirit, hippy types either she was just…her. "

Wondering if her next question was too personal, Brennan chewed her bottom lip and mulled it over in her head. Clayton looked over at her and knew that she wanted to ask something else. Over the last few years, he had been a part of many of Temperance Brennan Booth's guileless and harmless interrogations.

"Yes, Temperance?" He looked over at her with a smirk and brow cocked.

She inhaled and asked, "Were you really alone, _alone_ for all that time?"

Clay nodded once, "I loved my wife."


	14. October 5, 2011

**October 5, 2011**

"Charlotte, the only way to live _this _life is to live it above the fray. You can't dwell on this kind of crap." Clayton explained firmly as he loosened his tie.

She frowned as she looked up at him, "This," she held up a magazine, "is not the fray! This is the gutter, Clayton!"

He took the magazine from her hands and looked at the cover. He dropped it on the coffee table and ran his hands through his hair with an exasperated sigh, "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I want you to do more than look at it and shrug!" She picked up the magazine again and held it up to his face, "I'm in a bikini that is nothing more than dental floss and eye patches – I look like a two dollar whore on the cover of a national magazine and you don't care!"

"Charlotte, you need to calm down. It's just one picture."

She threw the magazine at him and turned on her heel, walking into the kitchen with an anger in her swaying hips that Clay had never seen before. He scrubbed his hands down his face and then finished removing his tie while undoing the button at his collar.

Slowly, he made his way into the kitchen. Charlie was staring out the window over the sink with her arms protectively wrapped around her chest. Clayton shoved his hands in his pockets, "You knew who I was before you got into this. You knew that I was in the public eye." He took a few steps toward her and leaned against the counter. She whirled around and was enraged at how unaffected he appeared.

"Why doesn't this bother you? Or better yet, why don't you care that it bothers me?"

"Six weeks into our relationship we went to the State dinner and the next morning we, not the President or the Pope who was the guest of honor, but _we_ were on the front page of every newspaper and that didn't seem to bother you."

She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head, "Of course that didn't bother me. It was a public event, I was aware my picture was being taken. How can you possibly be comparing the two incidents?"

"I'm trying to tell you that you should have seen this coming. The minute we went public you should have seen this coming, it comes with the territory." He stated slowly as though it was the conversation ender.

Charlie threw her hands up, "I can't do this. I can't…" She rushed passed him and ran up the stairs to the bedroom.

He sat down at the kitchen island and mumbled under his breath, "This is what you get for dating a red head, Clayton."

Not knowing what to do at the moment, he and Charlotte had never fought before, he rested his head in his hands and tried to figure out how to handle the situation.

In the bedroom, Charlotte was frantically throwing anything she could find in a bag when she suddenly realized what she was doing and stopped herself. "You're not this woman." she reminded herself as she slowly sat down on the bed. Never in her adult life had she been the sort to throw tantrums or make idle threats and she wasn't entirely certain why she picked now to start.

She closed her eyes and fell back onto the bed. Unable to sort out her own thoughts she rolled over and reached for a change of clothes.

A few minutes later, she tentatively went downstairs and found Clay in the kitchen. She was surprised to find him sitting there, staring at the marble counter.

She cleared her throat and he looked over at her and was surprised to see her in sweats and running shoes, "I'm gonna," she gestured to the door, "I'll be back in awhile."

He somberly nodded, "I'll be here."

With a weak smile, she turned and headed out the front door. He heard the door close and he rocked back in his seat and stretched his arms over his head. It had been an exhausting week in the chamber and he'd been looking forward to Charlotte returning from Atlanta and spending a quiet weekend with her. He scoffed at his own thoughts, "Better luck next time…"

He stood and dragged himself back into the living room. Dropping to the sofa, he grabbed the magazine and stared at the cover. Even though it was the source of the argument with the woman he loved, he couldn't stop himself from smiling at the picture. Charlotte was right, her bathing suit left nothing to the imagination, but damn...she looked good. He examined the glossy photograph closer and realized that, as gorgeous as Charlie looked, what stood out to him was how unbelievably happy he himself looked.

When he had decided to whisk Charlotte of to the island of Mustique for the first true vacation he had taken in years, Clay had taken every precaution to ensure their absolute privacy. Aside from this  
being a relatively new relationship where they were both still learning important and not so important things about each other, he was well-acquainted with the pitfalls of his station in life. He rented a villa with a private beach on the small island and had been assured that maintaining the privacy of their  
guests was goal number one. He and Charlie spent a week alone in what they thought was complete and total seclusion. They lay on the beach, relaxed in the private pool, ate extravagant meals, talked into the early dawn and made love as often as they could.

After two months of dating, they finally had the chance to spend more than three days in a row together and they got to know each other in a way they never would have been able to in DC or Philadelphia. It had been perfect.

And now one picture was threatening to ruin all of that and he would be damned if he would let that happen. He thought for a few minutes then went to the study to find what he needed to explain himself to Charlotte. He wasn't wrong, that much he knew. These things, they did happen and in a couple of days it would be forgotten. Living the life of a public figure had taught him that but Charlie didn't have the benefit of his experiences to help her cope, she only had him and he hadn't been much help at all.

An hour later, Charlie returned to the house. She found Clayton in his den, looking through a box of papers. "Hey."

He looked up and saw her in the doorway, her face was flushed deep pink from the early autumn air and she appeared to be more clam than she had been when she left. He smiled, "How was your run?"

"Good. I'm going to get a shower." She turned to leave and was stopped by him calling out her name. "Yes?"

"I'd like to talk when you're ready." He stood from his desk and walked over to her, "If you want to, I mean."

His shy, uncertain request made Charlotte feel terrible for taking off before. Why hadn't she just stayed and talked before? She gazed up at him and nodded, "I want to, I do. Give me 20 minutes?"

"Sure." As she left, he reached for her hand, "Hey Charlie?" She turned and before she could say anything he surprised her with a kiss, "I love you."

She slipped her hand out of his and left the room. Halfway up the stairs, she stopped herself. When she realized that nothing would be gained by prolonging the inevitable, she turned around.

Peeking her head back in the study, she found Clayton on the couch looking over a few newspaper clippings. She startled him when she said, "I think I want to talk now."

"Ok." He nodded and made room for her next to him.

As she sat down she exhaled and said, "I'm not good at this. I don't know how to share my life with any one person let alone with the entire world. I don't understand how you can do both and have it not bother you."

"I know." He handed her one of the faded clippings he'd been looking at, "When I was 17, I totaled my car," he pointed to the mangled heap in the picture, "coming home from my girlfriend's house at 2 o'clock in the morning. Because of who my dad was, there was a lot of speculation in the press and at my school about me being drunk or high." He paused and rubbed his palms together, "The truth was I fell asleep, it was that simple. My girlfriend's parents had gone out of town and I was very tired driving home, if you know what I mean?"

Charlotte fought a smile and nodded, "Yeah, I get it. What does this have to do with us?"

"I'm getting to that." He shifted in his seat and reached for another newspaper clipping . He looked at it for a split second before handing it to her. "My father had a heart attack at 52. Do you know what he was doing when it happened?"

She shook her head, staring at the obituary in her hands.

"No one else did either but that didn't stop the speculation that he was with his young assistant or one of our maids or a myriad of other less-than-honorable things. The truth was he was in bed with my mother." Clay watched as Charlotte began to catch on to what he was trying to tell her. He leaned toward her, pressing his thigh against hers and sighed sadly, "And after Michelle died, there was a lot of chatter about me. Why hadn't we had children in our seven years of marriage? Why had I remained single so long? The accepted but never said loud enough for everyone to hear belief was that I was gay."

She dropped her head in understanding. Slowly she said, "But the truth is, you had your own reasons for those things and what other people thought didn't matter."

He rested his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him as he relaxed against the couch, "It does upset me to see things like that magazine cover but I know the truth and you know it and that's the most important thing."

"But is it really worth it? Why put yourself through this?"

"When I was younger, I had no choice – that was my parent's life but now…" He turned toward her, "This is who I am. Maybe I didn't exactly chose this path but it is _my_ path. I was groomed for this, it's the family business but more importantly, I'm good at it. I'm damn good at it and I can make a difference. I can do great things and that to me, is worth all the idle gossip and unsubstantiated claims in the world."

Charlie lips twitched as she titled her head, "And I have to decide if it is worth it to me as well?"

"Or," he swallowed, "decide that I'm worth it."

She closed her eyes, "I really hope you are."


	15. April 17, 2013

**April 17, 2013**

"Director Booth, you have a visitor." Booth's assistant broke into his thoughts as he tried to read through yet another agent evaluation. He hated this time of year, if only for the fact that it always meant ten times more paperwork than usual.

"Who is it, Lori?" Booth threw down his pen and stood to pull his suit coat back on.

"He says he is from the Camden, New Jersey police department." The usually bright and cheerful woman stepped fully into Booth's office and shut the door behind her slightly, a frown marring her brow. "He says it's about a personal matter."

Something slick and dark wound its way through Booth's stomach at Lori's words. Always one to go with his gut, he was certain that whatever this officer had come to discuss, it wasn't going to be good.

"Go ahead, Lori. Send him in. Thanks." With a nod, she opened the door and motioned for the man standing tentatively outside to enter.

The officer, hat in hand, crossed the threshold to Booth's inner office and nodded his thanks to Lori and watched as she closed the door behind her. He turned to Booth and extended his hand. "Director Booth, I'm Sergeant Bruce Costello of the Camden Police Department. I apologize for interrupting you here at work, but as I explained to your assistant, this is a personal matter that I felt deserved to be addressed immediately."

"Certainly, Sergeant." Booth motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat."

Shaking his head, Costello turned his hat around in his hand, as if nervous, and then took the proffered chair. "Thank you, Director."

"Please. Booth is fine."

"Then I'm Costello." Nodding in shared acknowledgment, the officer continued. "As for my business with you, I'm afraid I am not here with good news."

Booth felt something in his stomach clench, but he schooled his features and nodded for the other man to continue.

"Yes, well…two weeks ago, on April 3, a late model Dodge was found over an embankment in Cooper River Park. Inside the car was a body. According to our coroner, the body had been in the car for at least 30 days. After a search of dentals and fingerprints, it was determined that the remains were those of Joseph Henry Booth."

"My father." Booth managed to choke out.

"Yes." Costello sat forward a bit in his seat, sympathy etched across his face. "I am very sorry for your loss, Booth."

"Yes, well…thank you. Did the coroner determine cause of death?" Booth tried to make sure he got as many details as he could before his mind shut down completely, as it was threatening to do at any moment.

Costello nodded. "Yes, they believe your father had a heart attack and lost control of the car. It went down the embankment, and landed in a large overgrowth, which is why it couldn't be seen from the road."

"And you say the car was there for a month or so?"

"As near as the coroner could tell, yes. He wasn't…uh, there wasn't a-"

"No missing persons report, because no one missed him." Booth finished for the obviously uncomfortable officer. "I understand. And I was the closest living relative?"

"Yes, according to the information he had in a lock box in his apartment, he left everything to you and your brother…uh, Jared?" At Booth's slight nod, he continued. "Yes, there was a will and a small stack of documents, all of which are in an evidence locker at the station. As soon as you are comfortable, you can come up and claim them, as next of kin."

Booth leaned back slightly in his chair. "Do you need an in-person visit to claim the body, or can I call and make arrangements?"

"A phone call is fine. I will let Dr. Blacker know to expect to hear from you. Did you have any other questions that I can answer for you now?"

"No, no…I appreciate you coming all the way down here to DC to give me the news." Booth stood along with the other man, and accepted another handshake. "Are you heading back right away? My wife will be here shortly, and we were just going to head to lunch. We'd appreciate it if you'd let us thank you for your trouble…"

"Oh, no thank you. That's really kind. But my daughter is being baptized tonight so I need to get back as soon as I can."

"Ah, well then congratulations. Baby girls are wonderful." Booth smiled.

Moving towards the door, Costello returned the grin. "They certainly are. Do you have any kids?"

"Yes, I have a twelve year old son, and my wife is six months pregnant with our own little baby girl." Opening the door, Booth came face to face with the wife in question. "Hey, Bones! You're early."

Brennan's quick eyes took in the officer, the darkness in her husband's eyes, and processed those observations with the information Lori had given her about Booth's visitor, and tried to smile. "It seems as though I am right on time."

Booth introduced Brennan to Costello, and then bid the officer goodbye, thanking him again for making the trip to deliver his news. He sent Lori off to have her own lunch, and then pulled Brennan into the office and shut the door.

Once inside, he pulled his wife into his arms and held her close. Brennan accepted the hug, running her hands comfortingly up and down his back. She was alarmed to realize that he was shaking, and she pulled back to look him in the eye.

"Booth…what happened? It's not Parker or Jared…?"

"No! No, Bones…it's…" He gulped a breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "They found my father."

Brennan moved back to embrace him, holding tighter than before. "He's dead?"

Booth only nodded, knowing she would understand why he couldn't say it out loud. They stood like that for long moments, Brennan swaying slightly back and forth, trying to comfort as best as she could. Finally, Booth sighed, kissed her on the top of the head, and moved to grab his jacket.

"Let's get out of here, Bones. I'm starving."

B&B

Later that evening, as Booth and Brennan relaxed in front of the fireplace in their living room, Brennan struggled with how to broach the subject of Booth's father. He had not mentioned the situation again after their hug in his office, and she could see that he was in no mood to talk about it at lunch. He'd given her the bare minimum facts, let her hold his hand as he called Jared, and then allowed him to drop the topic completely. If anyone knew how it felt to not want to discuss something personal, it was Brennan, so she allowed her husband the time he needed to decide how he felt. But something told her that if she didn't start to push him soon, they might never get it out in the open and she knew from experience that ignoring your feelings, no matter how painful, was never a good thing.

Taking a determined breath, she stepped into the breach. "Booth? Could we talk?"

"Sure, Bones. What did you want to talk about?" A small lie, he knew exactly what was on her mind. And while he would cheerfully and willingly ignore the subject until the end of time, he knew the woman that he married would never let him get away with that.

"Booth…you know what I'd like to discuss. I'm worried about you." She turned in his arms and tried to read his expression in the flickering firelight. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but…"

"Yeah, you're right. I don't want to talk about it." He winced at the hurt that flashed across her eyes, pulling her back as she automatically shifted away from his embrace. "But I will, okay? I will. I just…I'm not really sure exactly how I feel."

"What do you mean?"

Booth exhaled slowly, trying to find the words to describe the rolling emotions he was keeping on a tight rein. "I suppose I should be sad, right? I should be upset that my father is dead, but right now…I feel relieved. I'm glad that he's no longer walking the earth. And then, the fact that I'm not sad makes me feel guilty." He shook his head, frustrated. "I guess I don't know what I should be feeling."

Taking his hand and lacing her fingers with his, Brennan shook her head. "I do not believe that you are feeling anything that you shouldn't. Hank would say that you have every right to be relieved that your father is gone, and I have to agree with that assessment." She dropped his hand and reached up to hold his face in her warm palm, long fingers brushing his forehead and moving down in a loving caress to his temple. "I believe that anything you are feeling is correct because they are your feelings. And those cannot be wrong." She made sure she was looking into his eyes, watching for any signs of distress as she spoke. "You've always been the one person who could get me to express what I was feeling at any given moment, and make me feel safe for doing so. Now it is my turn to return the favor. Let me help you, Booth."

Booth sat back for several minutes, turning Brennan's words over and over in his head. He could only come to the conclusion that, as usual, his wife was right. "I miss Pops." He whispered, finally.

"I know. So do I." Brennan closed her eyes briefly, thinking of the sweet and generous man who had raised her husband to be the brave, giving, wonderful man in whose arms she now lay. It had been just over four months since Hank Booth had passed away, peacefully, in his sleep, but his family had been knocked off kilter ever since. Jared had made the observation that he'd expected Pops to outlive them all, and the realization that he wasn't going to was jarring. Brennan had agreed with that, Hank had always seemed indestructible. But things had been getting better; they had been adjusting…and now, this. Brennan took a page from Hodgins book and began to wonder if someone didn't have it out for them.

"I just…I know that Pops would want me to mourn Dad. He would say something about how if I forgive him, I can move on from it. But sometimes…I think that it's okay that I hate my old man. That we don't always have to forgive someone, especially someone who-" Booth's voice faltered, and Brennan was slightly alarmed to see a tear slide down his cheek.

Turning and getting to her knees, Brennan wrapped her arms around Booth's shoulders, holding him tight as she ran her fingers through the hair on his nape and whispered soothing nonsense into his ear as his body shook, the sobs literally wracking his body. She had the fleeting thought that this might be the one and only time her husband had broken down as a result of his father's abuse, so she was determined to let the pain come and run its course. After what seemed like hours, Booth pulled back from her embrace suddenly and kissed her fiercely, surprising her with his passion. She returned the heated kiss, moaning softly when he ran his hands down her back and cupped her buttocks possessively. She leaned into him and ground her lower body against his; giving him the permission she knew he sought. Booth stopped his ministrations on her throat and looked into her eyes.

"Bones…you don't have to, you know…"

Her steely blue grey eyes softened. "Will it comfort you?"

Her simple, heartfelt question almost made him lose it all over again, and his voice left him in a rush of love so intense he almost couldn't breathe, and all he could do was nod.

Brennan reached down and pulled her blouse over her head. "Then let me comfort you."

B&B

Much later, as they lay in the dying glow of the fire, Booth watched Brennan sleep while he sorted through the confusing maze of feelings he was having. He didn't want to feel guilty for not mourning his father's death, and he kept coming back to something Brennan had said right after they'd made love.

_Pressing her palm against his bare chest and getting that look on her face that he learned to recognize was the one she got when she was about to say something she wasn't sure would be acceptable, Brennan vocalized the only thing she could think of to help him. "I know that you are feeling guilty for not being saddened by your father's loss, but what if…what if you mourned the loss of that relationship from the beginning?" She shook her head, frustrated. "What I mean is, you missed out on having a loving, caring father…would it be acceptable to mourn the loss of that, instead of feeling guilty for what you're not mourning?"_

Glad for the millionth time that he had married a genius with a wide open heart, Booth thought about the childhood he'd had and the childhood he'd missed out on. While he tried to center on that, his mind wandered to the good things when he was growing up…Pops and Grams taking them to the shore, playing pick-up basketball on the worn courts by the schoolyard, the pride on Pops' face when he graduated high school…thousands of moments he wouldn't have had if his grandfather hadn't saved his life all those years ago. At that comforting thought, something dark and sad unlatched itself inside Booth and he suddenly felt lighter, less burdened. Looking down again on his wife, pregnant with his child and accepting completely of the man he had become, Booth realized that his past may not have been perfect…it may even have been horrific at times. But everything he and Brennan had ever been through had led them both to this moment, brought them together despite all the odds against them, and he could only, finally, feel grateful.


	16. September 6, 2011

**September 6, 2011**

"Alright Mud, who is she?" Cat asked as stepped out onto the deck of Clayton's home. Cat's husband had a conference in DC that week and they were having staying with Clay.

Clay set his drink down and curiously eyed his sister, "She?"

"Yes," she pulled a rumpled pair of jeans out from behind her back, "she who these size six Mankind jeans belong to!"

"Where did you get those?"He stood and took them from her.

"I was looking for a sweatshirt in your closet because it's so cold out here and they were the one thing that wasn't neatly tucked away in there so they caught my eye."

Clayton walked into the house without so much as a glanced back at his brother-in-law, Brian, who sat quietly eating his dinner, not wanting to get pulled into the discussion.

"Clayton!" She called as she followed him inside. "Who is she?"

He turned on his heel to face her, "Her name is Charlotte Townsend, Charlie, she's a reporter I've been seeing for a few weeks."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, sounding more hurt than she realized she was. "We talk all the time, Clayton. And you never once thought to tell me that you're dating, that you met someone you like enough to have spend the night. Why not tell me?"

He ran his hand through his hair and tossed the jeans on the counter, "Because I _really_ like her."

The confessional tone in his voice explained more to Cat than his actual words did and it chased away any and all ill feelings she had toward him. Her big brother, the man she knew hadn't _really _liked anything in a very long time, had met someone he deemed special. Cat looked over her shoulder at Brian still sitting alone on the deck, checking his email on his phone. She nodded to her brother, "Ok, I'm sorry. I'm gonna get back to Brian."

C&C

Later that night, Cat was sitting in the living room watching TV when Clayton joined her on the couch. "He in bed already?"

"Yeah, he was tired and he's speaking first thing in the morning at the convention."

Clay checked his watch and cleared his throat, "Uh, if you put channel 32 on, Charlie should be on shortly."

Cat grinned and eagerly changed the channel. They sat side by side, watching Anderson Cooper highlight the day's events for nearly 20 minutes before they cut to Charlotte, standing near a nondescript chain link fence. Cat arched a brow, "Not bad, big brother."

"Yeah, and this is with bad lighting and her being up all night out in the middle of nowhere so…" He leaned forward to listen to what Charlie was saying. When her report was over Cat shut the TV off and turned toward him. He groaned, "What?"

"She's very…she's a hottie, Mud."

"Yup."

"So, how does it work? Is she always gone or…?"

"It's only been a month but so far, I've been able to see her a few times a week. She was here for the weekend and she'll be back in the States in a few days." He shrugged, "It's not ideal but it's ok for now."

"When do we get to meet her?"

He exhaled deeply and rubbed his hands together, "Soon, I hope. I thought that maybe the next time she's here for a few days we would come up to Philly but we'll see. You know we're a lot to take and I don't want to scare her off."

"Good point." She laughed with him. His laugher was lighter and his eyes were brighter than they'd been in years and that nearly made Cat want to cry. She rested her hand on his arm, "You seem happy."

"I am. With Charlie it's…it's new, it's different, it's…" he smiled to himself, "great, really great."

"Good." Cat yawned and stretched her arms up over her head, "I think I'm going to head to bed. Want me to make breakfast in the morning?"

His phone rang and he quickly answered it, "Charlie, can you hold on a minute?" He rested the phone on his chest, "Breakfast would be great, thanks."

As Cat headed up the stairs, he called out, "Oh and one more thing?"

She turned and whispered, "What?"

"Please don't tell Mom."

Cat laughed, "Ok _Mr. Speaker_, I won't tell Mommy."


	17. December 23, 2011

**December 23, 2011**

There were numerous adjectives that Celeste Woods could use to describe her son; intelligent, handsome and kind were the first few that popped into her mind but never would she have described him as playful. That changed as she watched him instruct his new fiancé in the art of building a fire in the great room of her home. He was kneeling behind Charlotte as she stacked wood in the fireplace and it appeared he kept telling her that she was doing it the wrong way.

Every once in awhile, she would turn her face toward his in frustration and in response he would tickle her side or kiss her cheek but continue to try and get her to stack the wood his way. Finally, after several long minutes, the fire began to spark and Charlie turned to him in victory. He grabbed her by the waist and started tickling her viciously, as she rolled over to her side to get away from him, she saw Celeste in the doorway.

"Hey Celeste." Charlie said causing Clayton to relinquish his grip on her. She straightened her askew shirt as she sat up.

Celeste smiled as she wrapped her cardigan tighter around her shoulders, "I thought everyone had gone to bed."

Clay felt like a teen-ager getting caught with his girlfriend as he sat up and looked over at his mother, "I'm sorry if we were being too loud."

"Nah, you two are fine. I just came down to get a drink." She walked over to the bar in the corner with her faithful Boston Terriers, Hamilton and Burr, at her feet, "There was a time when this house was filled with noise all the time especially this time of year."

"Yeah and you were always telling us to keep it down." Clay pointed out as he joined her in making a drink. Even though he owned a home not far from the one he grew up in, every year since his father passed, Clay spent the couple of days before Christmas with his mother. Cat, Brian and their three boys would join them on Christmas Eve.

Celeste smiled as she sat down on the couch, "If I had known how much I'd miss it, I wouldn't have."

Clayton's phone rang in the other room and he excused himself, leaving the two women alone. Charlie petted the dog who chose to perch in her lap and looked over at Celeste, "The tree is beautiful. I can't get over how different the house looks decorated. It's like something out of a Victorian play."

"Thank you." She looked around the room, "Christmas used to be a very big deal in this house, Samuel loved it."

Charlie watched as the older woman's gaze turned to the mantle that was littered with family photos, "I imagine you miss him very much."

Celeste smiled, "I do, but I'm lucky to have my memories and my children."

"Clay looks a lot like his dad, doesn't he?"

"Yes. He looks so much like him in fact that it hurt my heart to look at him right after Sam died but now it's a comfort." She tucked a strand of salt and pepper hair behind her ear before turning to her future daughter-in-law, "Sam would be so damn proud of Clayton. I think that's one of the saddest things when a parent dies so young, they never get to see their children live up to their potential. And that boy," she gestured to the other room, "is going to fulfill and exceed his and Sam won't get to be there to enjoy it."

Charlotte nodded with tears in her eyes that caught Celeste off guard, "I wonder a lot about that, what my parent's would think of what I've done with my life."

"I didn't meant to upset you, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm fine." Charlotte insisted as she sniffled. "I think they'd be proud."

Celeste placed a comforting hand on her back, "Of course they would – look at everything you've done."

"You know, they never wanted me to be a journalist?" Charlie smiled through her tears, "They were both professors of literature at Berkeley and they found no redeeming qualities in journalism. My dad used to say that it was one-step above gossip and that if I wanted to write, I should write fiction. 'Look at the bible,' he used to say, 'fiction stands the test of time'." Charlotte grimaced, "He wasn't what you'd call a religious man, sorry."

"And your mother?"

"Mom was…how do I put this the right way…" She bit her lip as she sought the right words, "Mom had a bad relationship with time and space, she didn't truly live in _this_ world, you know what I mean?"

Celeste raised her eyebrows, "Oh yes, I've known more than a few like that in my time."

"Don't get me wrong, she was wonderful and loving but she didn't place any real value on things that normal people do and that was hard for me, especially as I got older. They were both very unhappy that I chose to go east for college, we didn't talk much after I left and then they were gone two years later."

"And then you met Lou and Dorothy, right?"

Charlotte nodded, "Yeah, shortly after I lost my parents, I interned at the _New York Post_ as a fact checker for the summer Lou was the editor there. Over time, he and Dorothy kind of adopted me. When I started taking assignments that had me away from home for months at a time, I gave up my apartment and their place became my home base. They never had any kids of their own and I think I filled the same void for them that they did for me. They're my family." She laughed to herself, "You should have seen the grilling Lou gave Clay after we got engaged…It would have been hilarious if it hadn't been so sweet."

"I hope you think of us as your family, too. We're so happy to have you. Really." Celeste grabbed Charlotte's hand and squeezed it, "Losing his father and Michelle within 18 months of each other was almost too much for Clay to handle."

Charlie nodded tightly, "I know."

"And sure, from the outside everything appeared to get back to normal after awhile but he never really came back, all the way. I worried about him all the time – ask Cat, she'll tell you. And then a few months ago, he brought you here for dinner and suddenly there was my Clayton again."

Never one to be comfortable discussing feelings, hers or anyone else's, Charlie shrugged, "I-I don't know what to say…"

"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know how grateful I am that you came along." Celeste released Charlie's hands, and dabbed at a few tears that had sprung up in her dark, green eyes.

Clayton came back into the room shaking the ice in his empty glass, without looking at the women he started speaking, "You'd think that two days before Christmas people would leave their offices before midnight, but no…" He stopped when he saw obvious signs of tears on both women's faces, "What? What did I miss?"

Celeste shook her head and scratched Burr's belly as he rolled over in her stomach, "Not much, we were discussing the wedding. You two need to pick a date, there's a lot that needs to be done."

Clay looked over at Charlie and with his eyes, silently asked her if she was ok. She winked at him and then turned her attention to his mother, "Well, I don't really have any preferences except I'd prefer winter or fall - I'd rather not be a sweaty bride."


	18. May 7, 2012

May 7, 2012

"You were really great tonight." Clay whispered as he ran a finger down Charlie's bare back.

She rolled over and cupped his face, "Thanks, baby."

He slipped his hand under the sheet that covered her and smoothed a hand across her hip as he shifted closer to her, "That speech was," he squinted at her, "interesting."

Charlie reared back, "Meaning?"

"Meaning," he leaned back, creating an empty space between them, "you thanked Lou, the soldier who died and inspired the story and…a guy you used to-"

"Really?" She cut him off as she pulled away from him and sat up in the bed, "You want to talk about that now?"

"Why not now? You never want to talk about that part of your life."

Charlie pulled the sheet around her and got out of bed. She stalked into the hotel room's sitting area and slumped down onto the sofa. Clay slowly rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of previously discarded boxers from the floor.

"I don't talk about that time in my life because it's not necessary." She explained when he joined her in the room.

"When you skip over that part of your life, it hangs out there and that bothers me. I tell you everything."

She ran her hands through her hair and glared at him, "Yes, you do. Just one more thing that makes you so damn perfect! God forbid, you ever failed at anything!"

Clay crossed his arms across his bare chest, "Oh, so now we're at the part where you lash out at me? We got here pretty damn quick this time."

"I don't understand why you would even want to know about any of those things."

"It's not like I have some sick, twisted part of me that wants to know all the dirty details but you never talk about your past relationships – never."

"Maybe because that shit is in the past?" She whipped the sheet around her and stood, "I'm here with _you_, I have been with _you_ for over 10 months and I'm going to marry _you_ in the fall – that's all that should matter."

"I sometimes wonder if there are things you're keeping from me." He caught a death glare from her as she stomped back into the bedroom. "You're not exactly the most forthcoming woman when it comes to personal information, you know."

"What on God's green earth could I be keeping from you?" She called out from the other room. "You're the Speaker of the House, Lord knows you can find out pretty much anything you want about me."

"I just get the feeling that if you can't talk about them, you…"

"I what?" She yelled as she looked for a pair of jeans to put on.

Clayton closed his eyes and sighed, "That you still have feelings for them, that maybe you haven't gotten over them."

Charlie laughed darkly as she buttoned his white dress shirt up over her naked breasts and sat down on the bed to pull on her boots, "That's exactly it." She stood and pulled her sleep-mussed hair into a ponytail. "I'm still in love with all those who came before you. I can't let any of them go."

"What are you doing?" He asked as she breezed through the suite, looking for her purse.

"I need some air."

He moved to the door and stood in front of it, "You're not going anywhere, it's the middle of the night."

"Oh please, do _not_ get all protective alpha dog on me now – I'm not in the mood."

"Charlotte," he said sternly, "I refuse to be in a relationship in which every time we have a fight you take off. It's juvenile and exhausting."

She fixed her arms to her hips, "I just won the Pulitzer – something I have been working for my entire adult life and somehow you have managed to ruin this moment that should be nothing but amazing because you want to know about some guy I fucked in the desert! I can't be around you right now!"

C&C

Two weeks later, Charlotte stood outside Clay's home with her key in hand. She hadn't spoken to Clayton since that night she left him in the hotel room. They had exchanged a handful of texts, only because he was worried about where she was and if she was safe but other than that, there was a complete lack of communication.

She took a deep breath and entered the house, relieved to find that he wasn't there. Dropping her bag in the foyer, she looked around the living room and then headed to the kitchen. On the counter, she found a note. Goose bumps immediately sprung up on her arms when she saw that it was addressed to her.

_Charlotte –_

_It's Thursday so we're in session today, I left the house around 8am. I have a dinner after for Genton's retirement but I plan on being home fairly early. We're off tomorrow so I should be up pretty late, working on a few things._

_I Love You,_

_Clayton_

She took the note with trembling hands and tentatively sat down at the kitchen table. How did he know she was coming today? Did he have someone following her? Did he low-jack her somehow?

After nearly 20 minutes of staring at the letter, Gus, who had been doing his routine security check of the house, entered the kitchen through the back door. He smiled as soon as he saw her, "I see Clay was right."

She looked up at him with glassy eyes, "About what?"

"He said that you'd come back in your own time, no call, no notice."

Charlie furrowed her brow, "He did, did he?"

"Yup, what do you think that note is about?"

She glanced down at the paper in her hand and then back up to him, "I-I don't understand."

He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her, "Every day since he got back from New York, he's left a note like this."

"Really?" She asked under her breath.

"He wanted to make sure that you knew where he was and when he'd be home when you came back."

She placed the note on the table and asked with wide eyes, "Every day?"

Gus nodded slowly, "Whenever he left the house." He watched as Charlotte tried to process what he said and then he slowly stood from the table, "I've known Woods a long time, I probably know him better than anyone else in his life, and I know that he loves you. I don't know what went down in New York but whatever happened didn't change how he feels – I don't know what could."

C&C

A few hours later, Charlotte was sitting on the stairs waiting for Clay to come home. She didn't know what she was going to say or how he was going to react and had spent nearly an hour trying to decide where she wanted to be when he came home. Just as she decided to move to the living room and wait for him on the couch, the door opened.

Clayton mumbled something to himself about the rain, dropped his briefcase on the table by the door and shrugged off his coat. As he started toward the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Charlie on the stairs, "You came home."

"Apparently, you knew I would." She moved down one stair closer to him.

"I wouldn't say that I 'knew', it was more like I hoped." He explained as he took one step up.

She tilted her head and asked, "But you left a note every day?"

He swallowed and nodded once, "I did."

"But you never called."

Clay took one more step up toward her, "I knew you needed time and I…." He shrugged and looked down at his feet.

"And what, Clay?" She asked tenderly as she moved down once again to be closer to him.

He looked up at her, "I told you a long time ago that I hadn't been 'here' in a really long time and honestly, I didn't know what to do, what I would say to you and I didn't want to-"

"To hear me say it was over?" She asked as she reached down and took his hand.

"I was scared."

"I'm sorry." She bent down to catch his gaze and when she did, she took his other hand, "I really am, I shouldn't have taken off like that. It wasn't fair to you. I just…" Charlotte paused and tried to find the words to tell the man she loved that she wasn't quite sure she was worthy of his love. She inhaled deeply, fighting off her tears, "You had this amazing and tragic love story and…I've spent most of my life running around like a Labrador just doing what feels good."

Clay shook his head, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't like talking about my previous relationships because…I," she raised one shoulder and dropped it quickly, "worry what you might think."

"Charlotte…I don't…" He shook his head and took the final step up to her so that they were eye to eye.

"You spent all those years alone because you loved Michelle so much and I spent those same years in relationships with men I didn't love. Compared to you I seem a little…you know?"

"You were 36 when I met you, I kind of assumed that I wasn't your first." He smiled as he circled his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "But I had the sneaking suspicion that I would be your last."


End file.
